FROM   THE   LIBRARY   OF 

REV.    LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED    BY    HIM    TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON   THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 


'V 


'A 


2} 


nrp  1 2  -mil 

poems,  .p 


/o 

/3P/ 

BY 

J 

vs^~ 

S.      Gr. 

BULFINCH. 

CHARLESTON : 

JAMES    S.    BUKG1.8,    183  KING-STREET. 

1834. 


Entered  agreeably  to  Acts  of  Congress,  in  the  District  Clerk's  Office  01 
the  Slate  of  South-Carolina. 


TO  THE 

REV.  SAMUEL  GILMAN. 

AND 

HIS  ESTIMABLE  LADY, 

THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME  IS  INSCRIBED  BY  THEIR 
OBLIGED  FRIEND, 

S.  G.  B. 


CONTENTS. 


CHIVALRY.  page  9 

Notes  to  Chivalry,            -        -        -        -         -  21 

DEVOTIONAL  PIECES. 

On  the  Saviour's  Prayer,  John  xvii.  20,  21.        -  27 

Hymn  for  the  Fourth  of  July,  29 

Ordination  Hymn,  ------  31 

Hymn  for  the  Ordination  of  Rev.  C.  Palfrey,     -  33 

True  Freedom,        ------  35 

Omnipresence,         ------  37 

Forgiveness,             ------  39 

Watchfulness,          ------  41 

Meditation,     -------43 

Thoughts  on  the  Saviour,  45 

Calling  of  Peter, 46 

Jesus  walking  on  the  Sea,  48 

Search  for  Truth, 49 

Peter's  denial  of  Christ,  -----  50 

Temptation,             ------  52 

The  Sabbath  Day, 54 

Jesus  before  Pilate,          -----  56 


CHIVALRY. 


I.  ^ 

They  rise  before  me!  Long  drawn  aisles,  retreating 

With  their  far  vistas,  in  the  deepening  shade, 
And  cloisters  proud,  in  pointed  arches  meeting, 

And  tinted  windows,  with  the  deeds  pourtrayed 
Of  saints  and  holy  men;  one  taper  dim 

Before  the  altar  burning. — 

Lo!  its  flame 
Lights  the  flush'd  cheek,  and  stately  form  of  hint. 

The  youthful  aspirant  of  love  and  fame. 
Around  him  lie  the  shield,  the  helm,  the  lance, 
Destined,  through  coming  years,  in  glory's  path  to 
glance. 

II. 

And  he  is  guarding  them;  and  high 
Around  him  rise  the  Minster's  walls; 

And  as  he  turns  his  awe-struck  eye, 
On  many  a  sculptur'd  form  it  falls, 

Recumbent  on  the  trophied  stone 
2 


12  CHIVALRY. 

The  blood  in  youthful  bosoms  throbs  as  high. 
And  though  its  ancient  forms  have  gone, 
The  soul  of  Chivalry  lives  on. 

V. 

Yes\  changeless  o'er  the  gladden'd  earth, 
Beams  that  fair  star  of  heavenly  birth. 
Deem  not  it  shed  a  transient  ray, 
Alone  through  Europe's  darker  day; 
Though  there,  when  dimmed  all  other  light. 
It  shone  unrivalled,  doubly  bright. 
Tt  beamed  when  Judah's  warrior  king 
Refus'd  the  draught  of  Bethlehem's  spring. 
And  poured  untouched  the  tempting  wave. 
Bought  by  the  peril  of  the  brave. 
It  shed,  in  Rome's  high  day,  its  power, 

O'er  stern  Fabricius'  soul  divine, 
And  beamed,  in  Rome's  expiring  hour, 
In  sadness  on  the  conquered  tower 

Where  fell  the  last  brave  Constantine. 

VI. 

And  thou,  Napoleon!  when  beneath  thy  sway. 

Hopeless  of  aid,  exhausted  Europe  lay, 
How  beamed  upon  thy  path  of  blood 
That  load-star  of  the  brave  and  good? 
Not  such  its  ray  as  led  thy  gaze 


CHIVALRY.  1 3 

In  victory's  earlier,  purer  days. 
Adverse  to  thee  it  flamed  afar, 
And  Europe  hailed  her  guiding  star. 
Then,  Germany!  came  forth  thy  brave 

From  many  a  haunt  of  learned  rest: 
From  Rhine's  broad  stream  to  Oder^s  wave. 

They  bound  the  corslet  on  their  breast: 
They  thought  no  more  of  learning's  charms, 

Nor  sought  the  Muse's  favourite  shade: 
They  heard  their  country's  call  to  arms. 

And  every  heart  that  call  obeyed. 
The  pale-eyed  student  left  his  cell 

To  rein  the  warrior's  battle -steed, 
And  smiled  exulting,  as  he  fell, 

With  visions  of  his  country  freed. 
Mark'stthou  yon  band,  by  the  wooded  Jthine' 

On  chargers  black,  in  black  array, 
Save,  on  their  brow  that  fearful  sign 

In  silver,  flashing  to  the  day; 
A  sign  of  battle  and  of  death, 

Of  deep  devotion,  purpose  high 
To  win  the  martyr's  glorious  wreath; 

Or  give  their  country  liberty. 
'Tis  Liitzow's!  Brave  and  faithful  few, 

The  God  of  battles  be  your  guide 
Te  raise  your  country's  strength  antfw, 

T*  quell  the  oppressor's  pride! 
2* 


14  <  TUVALU?, 

VII. 

Amid  that  brother-band  was  one 
O'er  whom  the  circling  sun 
Scarce  two  and  twenty  years  his  course  had  told. 
Loved  was  he  of  the  Muses,  and  the  fire 
Of  patriot  feeling  floated  round  his  lyre. 
High  was  his  name  on  Glory's  page  enrolled, 
And  deep  Devotion  had  inspired  his  lay. 
Love  beamed  upon  his  path*  and  Fortune's  kindest 
ray. 
O,  consecrated  Bard!  how  swelled  thy  breast, 
When  in  the  ancient  church,  with  thine  own  strains 

Yet  echoing,  hand  in  hand 
Thy  brethren  swore  to  save  their  Fatherland, 
Or  upon  Freedom's  battle  plains, 
Sink  to  their  glorious  rest! 
How  burst  thy  song  in  Nature's  hour  of  pain, 
When  wounded,  helpless  and  alone, 
Upon  the  forest  foliage  thrown, 
The  form  to  which  thy  young  heart  beat  so  high 
Shone,  seraph-like,  before  thy  glazing  eye, 
And  the  dull-beating  pulse  was  thrilled  with  jo} 
again. 
Rest,  rest  thee  with  the  Sword,  thy  Bride, 
Wed  on  thy  dying  day! 
True  hearts  shall  beat  to  thee, 
Warm  tears  shall  flow  for  thee, 


I  m  m  in  .  I"» 

11  bo  th\   . 
Th>  memory  \\> 

Mil. 
Turn  we  fr< »in  lands  beyond  the  clistanl   \ 

Our  own  America,  to  n 
M\  comity  gloriou  nunriun  <>f  the  & 

The  faithful  and  the  brave! 
Oh,  may  1  mg  aright  tliat  spirit  In 

(ienius  of  thy  realm-  of  Liberty, 

IV 
Mark  yonder  villa- 
-•>und  <»f  arm-  ie  m  the  pefeeefid  street. 

Why  does  the  drum's  loud  brat 
Pall  in,  the  deep  bell's  solemn  tod  Cdl 

\   i  m    l-  in  the  land, 

'1  all  h'-r  youthful  -trench  ha-  £01 

From  rviiy  rnginn  gathered  forth, 

The*  ardent  South,  the  hardy  North, 
iried,  but  fraternal  band. 
To  tight  with  Washington. 
\nd  now,  with  martial  lite  and  drum. 

Dues  thi  as. 

Hut,  ab!  the  summ  I  ifl  \  aim 

The  best  and  br 
Ind  silent  on  the  pomp  of  w;< 


16  CHIVALRY. 

Gaze  that  assembled  train. 
Oh!  mark  that  old  man's  brow,  for  there 
A  patriot's  zeal,  a  father's  care 
For  his  last  offspring's  youthful  life, 
Are  holding  long  and  fearful  strife. 
Three  sons  have  left  him  for  the  field: 
He  knows  not  but  his  good  and  brave 
Have  found,  ere  now,  a  warrior's  grave, 
And  must  the  patriot  father  yield 

His  last,  his  loveliest  one? 
Twice  round  the  green,  and  twice  in  vain; 
Has  passed  that  military  train. 

The  gallant  boy  is  looking  anxious  on, 

And  his  eye  turns  to  seek  his  father's  face. 

The  old  man's  aspect  changed,  his  lip  grew  white. 

Then,  calm  again,  he  gave  the  assenting  sign, 

Vnd  the  glad  youth  has  joined  the  martial  line. 
Men  gazed  one  instant,  in  the  next  the  place 

With  shouts  of  valour  rang.     "On  to  the  fight! 

On  for  our  country's  cause,  and  God  defend  ttik 
right!" 

X. 

tf  ut  hark!  across  the  ocean's  wave 

There  comes  a  deepening  cry. 
On  Poland's  plains  the  steadfast  brave 
Hopeless  thgir  fallen  land  to  save, 


CHIVALRY.  I* 

Beneath  its  ruins  die. 
Where,  Europe,  is  the  spirit  fled 
That  burned  within  thy  glorious  dead? 
A  noble  nation  sinks  oppressed, 
And  not  a  lance  is  laid  in  rest, 
Nor  waves  the  breeze  a  single  crest, 
To  aid  the  valiant  and  the  free 
In  their  high  strife  for  liberty. 
Mourn,  France,  thy  glory  clouded  o'er, 
And  Thou,  too,  of  the  sea-girt  shore! 
Oh,  had  your  flags  together  waved, 

Your  voice  in  thunder  spoke, 
The  thanks  of  that  brave  nation  saved 

Had  forth  in  transport  broke. 
Your  chiefs,  the  theme  of  song  sublime, 
Had  won  the  praise  of  future  time. 
Bright  rose  the  star,  and  Europe  glowed 

Exulting  in  its  kindling  ray, 
And  despots  trembled  as  it  rode 

Triumphant  on  its  heavenly  way. 
But  clouds  have  dimmed  its  path  of  light, 
And  darkly  close  the  shades  of  night. 
i  Yet  no!  The  star  of  Chivalry 
Steadfast,  though  dimmed,  can  never  die. 
Still  many  a  pure  and  fearless  mind 
Its  bright  remembrance  holds  enshrined. 
And  many  a  clear,  far-searching  eye 


18  CHIVALRY. 

Pursues  its  distant  course  on  high. 
Still  lives  the  warrior-sage,  who  led 

Our  hosts,  in  Freedom's  earlier  day; 
And  still  fresh  laurels  crown  his  head, 

And  glory,  ne'er  to  fade  away. 
Hero  of  nations!  o'er  thy  grave, 

When  sinks  at  last  the  exhausted  flame, 
As  bend  in  tears  the  good  and  brave, 

And  faltering  bless  thy  honoured  name. 
The  star  of  Chivalry  shall  pour 

The  spirit  of  its  light  and  power, 
And  souls  that  never  felt  before 

Shall  own  the  influence  of  the  hour. 
But  ere  'tis  thine,  loved  chief,  to  rest 
Within  thy  country's  grateful  breast, 
Oh,  may  thy  calm,  benignant  eye 
Catch  the  full  light  of  liberty, 
And  strength  be  given  thine  aged  ear 
Glad  Europe's  triumph-shout  to  hear! 

XI. 

But  is  it  only  when  the  cannon's  roar, 
The  stirring  trumpets  and  the  deafening  drums 
Send  forth  their  battle-music,  that  the  tone 
Of  Chivalry  can  breathe  in  unison? 

Oh,  no!  Its  free  notes  soar 
Not  only  when  the  tempest's  might  overcomes 


CHIVALRY.  19 

The  lofty  groves,  and  shakes  the  eternal  hills, 

But  where  the  lowliest  rills 
Murmur  along,  by  gentlest  gales  breathed  o'er. 
There  hath  been  Chivalry  where  arms  ne'er  came: 

Its  pure  and  ardent  flame 
Hath  shed  a  halo  round  the  warrior's  crest, — 
Hath  burned  within  the  patriot  statesman's  breast, 
Nor  less  has  warmed  the  peasant's  humble  cot. 
And  cheered  the  outcast's  friendless,  hopeless  lot. 

For  what  is  Chivalry? 

'Tis  self-devotedness; 
A  spirit  urging  onward  and  still  on 
To  some  high,  noble  object  to  be  won; 
And  pressing  still,  through  danger  and  distress, 

Regardless  of  them  all, 
Till  that  high  object,  whatsoe'er  it  be, 
Friendship,  or  virtuous  fame,  our  country's  liberty, 
The  improvement  of  our  race,  the  happiness 

Of  one  poor  individual, 
Or  of  unnumbered  thousands,  be  attained. 
We  knowr  it  by  the  burning  cheek, 

The  excited  voice,  the  flashing  eye, 
Where  common  souls  would  coldly  speak 

Of  some  high  purpose  gained. 

Such,  such  is  Chivalry! 
Such,  such  the  Chivalry  of  elder  days, 
High  theme  of  ladies'  love,  and  minstrels'  praise. 


JO  CHIVALRY. 

XII. 

But  pause,  adventurous  lyre! 
The  Chivalry  of  Peace  demands  a  lay 
Of  loftier  music.     That  ethereal  ray, 

Light  of  the  Christian's  course,  that  sacred  fire 
Whose  gentle  influence  forms  the  soul  to  love. 
I.o  great  exertion  in  the  cause  of  man 
Yet  humble,  nor  for  mortal  eye  to  scan, 

That  fire  is  kindled  from  the  throne  above! 
Here  let  the  minstrel  pause,  his  labour  o'er, 
Lav  down  his  feeble  lyre,  and  in  his  heart  adore. 


NOTES 

TO  THE  POEM  OF  CHIVALRY. 


12.— Line  11. 

"  When  Judah's  warrior  King." 

"And  David  longed,  and  said,  Oh  that  one  would  give 
me  drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of  Beth-lehem,  which 
is  by  the  gate!  And  the  three  mighty  men  brake  through 
the  host  of  the  Philistines,  and  drew  water  out  of  the 
well  of  Beth-lehem,  that  was  by  the  gate,  and  took  it, 
and  brought  it  to  David:  nevertheless,  he  would  not  drink 
thereof,  but  poured  it  out  unto  the  Lord.  And  he  said, 
Be  it  far  from  me,  O  Lord,  that  I  should  do  this:  is  not 
this  the  blood  of  the  men  that  went  in  jeopardy  of  their 
lives?  Therefore  he  would  not  drink  it."  2  Sam.  xxiii. 
15—17. 

Page  12.— Line  19. 
"The  last  brave  Constantine." 
Constantine   Paleologus,   slain  at   the  capture  of  Con- 
stantinople by  the  Turks. 
3 


22  CHIVALRY. 

Page  13.— Line  16. 
"MarWst  thou  yon  band.'" 
One  of  the  most  distinguished  corps  of  the  German 
volunteers,  was  that  of  Major  Von  Liitzow,  the  "wild, 
bold  hunters,"  as  they  are  styled  in  one  of  Korner's  most 
spirited  pieces.  The  uniform,  alluded  to  in  the  following 
lines,  was  black;  the  officers  being  distinguished  by  the 
figure  in  silver  of  two  crossed  bones,  on  the  front  of  their 
raps. 

Page  14.— Line  2. 
"Amid  that  brother  band  was  one." 
Charles  Theodore  K6rner,  born  at  Vienna,  of  a  respect- 
able and  accomplished  family.  His  deep  religious  feeling 
and  his  taste  for  poetry  were  early  developed;  and  both 
received  strength  from  his  education,  begun  under  the  eye 
of  his  father,  and  continued  at  an  academy  in  a  pictu- 
resque mountainous  district.  The  sudden  death  of  one  of 
his  early  friends  contributed  to  the  serious  and  elevated 
character  which  his  mind  assumed.  At  an  early  age  he 
published  his  "Knospen,"  or  "Buds,"  a  collection  of 
Poems.  He  then  wrote  several  tragedies  which  attained 
^reat  success;  and  in  consequence,  he  received  the  ap- 
pointment of  Dramatic  Poet  to  the  Court  of  Vienna. 
He  vas  happily  betrothed,  and  everything  seemed  to 
promise  a  life  of  enduring  happiness,  and  a  fame  equal  to 
hat  of  the  first  poets  of  Germa  At  this  period  he 

felt  himself  called  on  by  the  necessities  of  his  country,  to 
assume   the   profession  of  arms.     A   letter   to  his  father, 
written  at  this  time,  shows  that  he  knew  the  blessings  he 
giving  up,  and  that  his  heart  was  torn  at  the  thought 


CHIVALRY.  23 

of  leaving  them.  Yet  be  resigned  them,  conscious  that  it 
might  be  forever;  and  enlisted  in  Lutzow's  Corps,  in 
which  he  received  the  commission  of  Adjutant.  His  po- 
etical talent  was  now  devoted  to  the  same  cause  with  his 
sword;  and  his  fine  war  songs  were  committed  to  memo- 
ry by  the  soldiers,  and  blended  in  their  minds  with  patriotic 
feeling,  a  firm  reliance  on  Divine  Providence.  He  was 
slain  in  a  skirmish  near  Wobbelin  in  M  ecklenburg-Schwer- 
in,  on  the  20th  of  August,  1813,  having  a  few  hours  be- 
fore composed  the  Sword  Song,  one  of  the  finest  and 
most  popular  of  his  poems.  It  is  generally  known,  from 
Mrs.  Hemans'  beautiful  lines,  that  his  only  sister 

''Lingered  but  to  trace 
His  image  from  the  image  in  her  breast," 

and  died.  A  more  melancholy  fate,  insanity,  followed  at 
length  by  death,  attended  the  young  lady  to  whom  he  was 
engaged.  The  highest  honours  were  paid  to  the  memory 
of  Korner;  but  the  band  to  which  he  belonged,  was  before 
the  termination  of  the  war,  exposed  to  every  danger,  di- 
vided and  scattered,  till  scarce  a  remnant  was  left. 

Two  brief  translations,  exhibiting  the  patriotic  and  de- 
votional spirit,  though  by  no  means  the  energy  and  grace 
of  Korner's  style,  are  inserted  among  the  miscellaneous 
pieces  in  this  volume. 

Page  14. — Line  11. 
"O  consecrated  Bard." 
Soon  after  Korner  joined  his  regiment,  they  assembled 
in  a  church;  and  after  service,   during  which  one  of  his 


*24  CHIVALRY. 

hymns  had  been  sung,  they  took,  hand  in  hand,  the  oath 
of  fidelity.  His  feelings  on  the  occasion  are  expressed  in 
a  letter  to  his  father. 

Page  14. — Line  17. 
"How  burst  thy  song  in  nature9 s  hour  of  pain." 
See  the  "Parting  from  Life,"  in  this  volume. 

Page  14.— Line  24. 

"The  sword,  thy  bride." 

This  is  the  leading  idea  of  his  noble  Sword  Song,  com- 
posed on  the  morning  of  the  day  he   fell.     Mrs.  Hemans 
has  beautifully  adopted  the  idea,  in  the  lines  beginning 
"A  song  for  the  death-day  of  the  brave, 

A  song  of  pride! 
The  youth  went  down  to  a  hero's  grave 
With  the  sword,  his  bride." 

Page  15. — Line  11. 

" Mark  yonder  village  scene.'' 

This  incident  of  the  Revolution  was  related  to  a  friend 
of  the.  writer,  by  the  old  man,  who  had  in  youth  been  the 
hero  of  the  transaction. 


DEVOTIONAL   PIECES. 


:}* 


ON  THE  SAVIOUR'S  PRAYER. 

john  xvii.  20,  21. 

"Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also  which 
shall  believe  on  me  through  their  word;  that  they  all  may 
be  one,  as  Thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that 
they  also  may  be  one  in  us:  that  the  world  may  believe 
that  thou  hast  sent  me." 

O  pure  and  godlike  Saviour!  Thou  dost  bend 
Thus  meekly  in  the  Eternal  Father's  sight. 

And  as  thy  warm  affections  heavenward  tend. 
Thy  rapt  disciples  watch  that  lofty  flight. 

Thou  prayest  for  those  around  thee; — nor  alone 
For  those — but  all  to  whom  thy  name  shall  be 

Through  furthest  realms,   through  distant   ages 
known; 
Saviour  most  merciful!  Thou  prayest  for  me! 

Can  we  be  one  with  thee,  as  thou  art  blest 
In  unity  with  Him,  who  reigns  alone? 

Will  his  eternal  spirit  in  our  breast, 

With  thine,  0  gracious  Lord!  erect  his  throne? 


28        OX  THE  SAVIOUR'S  PRAYER. 

Most  glorious  union!  God,  through  thee,  in  all. 

Diffusing  life,  and  light,  and  holiness, 
While  each,  obedient  to  his  Maker's  call, 

Receiving  blessings,  learns  himself  to  bless. 

Th,en  from  unnumbered  hearts  the  choral  song 
Without  a  jarring  voice,  shall  heavenward  rise. 

Oh,  for  the  joyful  era!  Lord,  how  Jong, 

Eire  lhat  full,  glorious  anthem  reach  the  skies! 


HYMN  FOR  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY, 


God  of  armies,  when  the  powers 
Of  Assyria's  monarch  came. 
And  their  course  to  Salem's  towers 
Mark'd  with  wasting  sword  and  flame- 
Nerveless  lay  the  mailed  hand; 
Broke  the  shield  and  snapp'd  the  bow; 
Vanquish'd  was  th'  invading  band, 
Death-struck  by  no  mortal  foe. 

Then  the  hymn  of  triumph  swell'd 
From  Moriah's  rescued  fane; 
For  the  haughty  foe  repell'd, 
And  Judea  free  again. 
Thus,  O  Father,  now  to  thee 
Flows  a  grateful  nation's  song, 
And  the  voices  of  the  free 
Each  exulting  note  prolong. 

Yet  a  nobler  conquest  gain, 
Vanquish,  Lord!  our  moral  foes: 


30  HYMN  FOR  THE  FOURTH  OF  JULY. 

Burst  each  tyrant  passion's  chain, 
May  the  reign  of  error  close. 
Save  from  each  unworthy  thought. 
Sordid  wish  or  view  confin'd; 
Grant  the  freedom  Jesus  brought. 
Freedom  of  th'  immortal  mind. 

From  our  lips  a  louder  song 
Then  shall  burst  of  love  and  praise. 
And  our  lives  their  course  along 
Shall  a  nobler  anthem  raise: 
And  another  strain  shall  wake. 
Heard  alone  by  thee  above. 
While  our  hearts  sweet  music  make 
To  the  theme,  Eternal  Love! 


ORDINATION  HYMN. 


Of  old  in  Israel's  holy  place, . 

The  Levite  band  their  anthem  poured. 
And,  bowed  before  Jehovah's  face, 

A  nation  owned  its  heavenly  Lord. 

And  when  the  dews  of  evening  still 
Were  bathing  Salem's  temple  fair, 

Rose  from  the  shaded  Olive-hill 

The  earliest  voice  of  Christian  prayer. 

We  with  that  voice  of  by-gone  years, 
Our  own,  O  Gracious  Lord!  would  blend. 

Calling,  in  joys,  in  hopes,  in  fears, 
On  thee,  our  Father  and  our  Friend. 

And  he  who  stands  as  leader  where 
Thy  people  meet  to  seek  thy  face, — - 

Grant  that  our  pastor,  Lord,  may  share 
A  double  portion  of  thy  grace. 


32  OIUHNATTON    HYMN. 

Grant  turn,  the  mildness  of  the  dove 
To  blend  with  wisdom  from  on  high; 

To  lead  thy  people  in  thy  love; 
For  them  to  live: — in  thee  to  die. 


HYMN.  33 


HYMN, 

FOR  THE  ORDINATION  OF  THE  REV.  C.  PALFREY, 
AS  SUCCESSOR  TO  THE  REV.  ROBERT  LITTLE,  IN 
THE  PASTORAL  CARE  OF  THE  UNITARIAN  CHURCH 
AT  WASHINGTON  CITY. 

Across  the  wave  a  pilgrim  came 

To  seek  a  place  of  rest; 
And  deep  devotion's  holy  flame 

Was  bright  within  his  breast. 
Within  these  wTalls  his  words  of  might 

ControlPd  the  list'ning  throng; 
And  to  the  Lord  of  life  and  light 

Arose  the  sacred  song. 

But  now  that  voice  of  power  is  still'd, 

That  warm  heart  cold  in  death; 
The  spirit  which  that  bosom  fill'd 

Hath  left  its  home  beneath; 
The  glories  of  eternal  day 

Around  him  ever  flame; 
But  where  his  lamp  illum'd  our  w;i\ 

A  sudden  darkness  came. 
4 


34  hymn. 

Father  of  Lights!  thy  rays  dispel 

The  gloom  which  round  us  hung: 
\ud  joyful  now  our  anthems  swell. 

And  hymns  of  praise  are  sung. 
Praise  to  thee — praise,  for  him  who  stands 

To  lead  thy  flock  in  love! 
( )h  bless  the  labors  of  his  hands 

With  mercy  from  above. 

<  )h  fill  his  breast  with  love  divine, 

His  words  with  healing  might; 
\n«{  may  his  life  and  doctrine  shine, 

Array '-din  heavenly  light. 
With  Jesus'  spirit  fill  his  breast, 

With  hope,  and  faith,  and  power; 
And  grant  the  crown  of  endless  rest 

To  bless  his  parting  hour! 


TRUE  FREEDOM.  33 


TRUE  FREEDOM. 


Who  is  the  truly  free? 
The  Monarch  on  his  throne? 
The  Chief,  adorned  with  victory. 
And  spoils  by  valour  won? 

No!  Passion's  force  can  shake 
The  soul  in  danger  tried; 
And  he  who  bars  of  steel  can  break- 
May  be  the  slave  of  Pride. 

Who  is  the  truly  blest? 
The  man  of  wealth  untold? 
In  robes  of  Eastern  splendour  dressed, 
And  served  in  plate  of  gold? 

No!  vain  his  rich  attire 
To  ease  the  labouring  breath; 
And  vain  his  gold  to  quench  the  fire, 
The  fever-flame  of  death. 


#6  TRUE    FREEDOM. 

Thai  man  is  free,  O  Lord! 
To  whom  thy  name  is  dear; 
Who  fearing  thee,  performs  thy  word. 
And  knoAvs  no  other  fear. 

From  passion,  pride,  remorse, 
Thy  care  his  path  shall  guard, 
And  lead  him  on,  in  virtue's  course, 
To  his  divine  reward. 

Thy  love  protects  his  way; 
To  thee  his  thanks  are  given; 
Thy  smile  shall  gild  life's  evening  ray, 
And  light  the  morn  of  heaven. 


OMNIPRESENCE.  M 


OMNIPRESENCE. 


Father!  Omnipresent  One! 

Where  the  realms  of  space  extend. 
Far  beyond  the  flaming  Sun, 

Reigning  without  change  or  end! 
In  the  balmy  breath  of  Spring 

Floats  thy  voice  in  tones  of  love; 
And  the  flashing  lightning's  wing 

Bears  thy  mandates  from  above. 

When  the  bright  Sun's  mellow  ray 

Falls  on  Summer's  golden  grain; 
When  the  gentler  moonbeams  play 

'Mid  the  countless  starry  train; 
And  beneath  the  rayless  night, 

In  the  damp  and  heavy  air, 
(rod  of  darkness  and  of  light! 

Omnipresent!  Thou  art  there. 

4* 


38  OMNIPRESENCE. 

Still  thy  power  around  us  spread 

All  the  unmeasured  world  sustains; 
Safely  rests  the  infant's  head 

God,  his  gentlest  Father  reigns. 
Oh,  through  life,  where'er  I  rove. 

Omnipresent!  fill  my  breast! 
Living,  may  I  share  thy  love, 

Dying,  enter  to  thy  rest. 


FORGIVENESS;  31 


FORGIVENESS. 


"And  Jesus  said  unto  her,  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee: 
go,  and  sin  no  more."     John  viii.  11. 


Benignant  Saviour!  'Twas  not  thine 
To  spurn  the  erring  from  thy  sight. 
Nor  did  thy  smile  of  love  divine 
Turn  from  the  penitent  its  light. 

Oh  then,  shall  we,  who  own  thy  name. 
A  brother's  fault  too  sternly  view, 
Or  think  thy  holy  law  can  blame 
The  tear,  to  human  frailty  due? 

May  we,  while  human  guilt  awakes 
Upon  our  cheek  the  generous  glow, 
Spare  the  offender's  heart,  that  breaks 
Beneath  its  load  of  shame  and  woe. 


40  FORGIVENESS. 

Conscious  of  frailty,  may  we  yield 
Forgiveness  of  the  wrongs  we  bear; 
And  strive  the  penitent  to  shield 
From  further  sin,  or  dark  despair. 

And  when  our  own  offences  weigh 
Upon  our  hearts  with  anguish  sore, 
Lord!  let  thy  pardoning  mercy  say 
Like  Jesus,  "Go,  and  sin  no  mere.'5 


WATCHFULNESS. 


41 


WATCHFULNESS. 


Creator!  by  thy  care  and  love 
A  charge  is  given  us  from  above; 
In  constant  duty  must  we  wait 
As  servants  at  their  master's  gate; 
Remembering  all  thy  holy  law 
With  zealous  love,  and  fear  and  awre; 
And  ready,  when  our  Lord  shall  come, 
Joyful  to  bid  him  welcome  homo. 

Then,  in  the  watches  of  the  night. 
If  he  appear  before  our  sight, 
Fearless  may  we  his  presence  meet, 
And  as  our  friend,  our  Master  greet, 
His  eye  our  ready  love  shall  see 
And  mark  our  tried  fidelity; 
And  kindness  from  his  lips  shall  flow. 
And  large  rewards  his  hands  bestow. 


WATCHFULNESS. 

Thus,  holy  Master!  in  the  clay 

When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away. 

When  in  the  world's  astonished  sight 

Thy  throne  of  judgment  stands  in  light, 

May  we,  from  every  terror  free, 

That  awful  preparation  see; 

And,  e'en  in  Nature's  closing  hour, 

Vdore  our  Maker's  love  and  power. 


MEDITATION.  +:>> 


MEDITATION. 


"And  they  said  one  to  another,  Did  not  our  hearts  burn 
within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the  way,  and  while 
he  opened  to  us  the  scriptures?"     Ltjke  xxiv.  32. 


Hath  not  thy  heart  within  thee  burned 
At  evening's  calm  and  holy  hour, 
As  if  its  inmost  depths  discerned 
The  presence  of  a  loftier  power? 

Hast  thou  not  heard,  'mid  forest  glade*. 
While  ancient  rivers  murmured  by. 
A  voice  from  forth  the  eternal  shades. 
That  spake  a  present  Deity? 

And  as,  upon  the  sacred  page 
Thine  eye  in  rapt  attention  turned 
O'er  records  of  a  holier  age, 
Hath  not  thy  heart  within  thee  burned? 


\\  MEDIT-AJPIOX. 

ft  aviis  the  voice  of  God,  that  spake 
In  silence  to  thy  silent  heart; 
And  bade  each  holier  thought  awake, 
And  every  dream  of  earth  depart. 

Voice  of  our  God!  ()  yet  be  near! 

In  low,  sweet  accents,  whisper  peace: 

Direct  us  on  our  pathway  here, 

Then  bid.  in  heaven,  our  wanderings  cease! 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  SAVIOUR.  45 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  SAVIOUR. 


O  suffering  friend  of  human  kind! 
How,  as  the  fatal  hour  drew  near, 
Came  thronging  on  thy  holy  mind 
The  images  of  grief  and  fear! 

Gethsemane's  sad  midnight  scene, 
The  faithless  friends,  the  exulting  foes, 
The  thorny  crown,  the  insult  keen, 
The  scourge,  the  cross,  before  thee  rose. 

Did  not  thy  spirit  sink  dismayed, 

As  the  dark  vision  o'er  it  came; 

And  though  in  sinless  strength  arrayed, 

Turn  shuddering  from  the  death  of  shame? 

But  onward  still,  through  scorn  and  dread, 
Didst  thou  thy  Father's  call  obey, 
Steadfast  thy  path  of  duty  tread, 
And  rise,  through  death,  to  endless  day. 
5 


Hi  THE  CALLING  OF  PETER. 


THE  CALLING  OF  PETER. 

MATT.  IV.   18. 

The  wind  was  hushed  on  Galilee. 

As  near  its  waveless  flood, 
With  thought  as  calm  as  that  fair  sea. 

An  humble  fisher  stood. 

A.  voice  was  heard;  as  on  the  lake 
Is  heard  the  whispering  breeze. 

Gentle,  yet  mighty  to  awake 
The  grandeur  of  the  seas. 

^  ears  passed  away; — the  humble  man 
Who  stood  unheeding  there, 

No  more  at  early  dawn  began 
Tile  fisher's  tranquil  care. 

Him  palaces  of  eastern  pride 
Now  hailed  an  honoured  guest; 

\\\(\  now,  the  lowliest  couch  beside, 
He  spoke  of  heavenly  rest. 


THE  CALLING  OF  PETER.  47 

He  bore,  through  perils  far  and  near. 

His  Saviour's  holy  name: 
He  yielded  not  to  hope  or  fear, 

To  indolence  or  shame. 

That  Saviour's  presence  cheered  his  breast 

•Through  every  varied  scene: 
That  faith  his  dying  hour  confessed, 
In  martyrdom  serene! 


48  JESUS  WALKING  ON  THE  SEA. 


JESUS  WALKING  ON  THE  SEA. 

Lord,  in  whose  might  the  Saviour  trod 
The  dark  and  stormy  wave; 

And  trusted  in  his  Father's  arm. 
Omnipotent  to  save! 

When  darkly  rouna  our  footsteps  rise 
The  floods  and  storms  of  life, 

Send  thou  thy  Spirit  down,  to  still 
The  elemental  strife. 

Strong  in  our  trust  on  thee  reposed. 

The  ocean-path  we'll  dare; 
Though  waves  around  us  rage  and  foam. 

Since  thou  art  present  there. 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  TRUTH.  49 


THE  SEARCH  FOR  TRUTH. 

Oh,  darkly  on  the  path  of  life 

The  pilgrim  holds  his  course  of  strife: 

His  wandering  vision  strives  in  vain 

The  distant  prospect  to  attain; 

And  Prejudice  will  rise  between, 

And  Doubt's  dark  clouds  enfold  the  scene. 

Father  of  lights!  to  Thee  we  pray 
To  chase  those  clouds  of  doubt  away, 
Bid  lingering  Prejudice  depart 
That  long  has  shadowed  o'er  the  heart. 
And  cause  thy  Truth,  with  ray  divine, 
Upon  thy  servants'  path  to  shine. 

Thus  when  thy  Sun  in  glory  springs; 
With  morning  on  his  golden  wings, 
The  shades  retire,  the  mists  of  night 
Recede,  and  Nature  smiles  in  light, 
And  hill  and  vale,  and  earth  and  sea, 
Breathe  forth  their  matin  song  to  Thee. 


50  peter's  denial  of  christ. 


PETER'S  DENIAL  OF  CHRIST. 

«'And  the  Lord  turned,  and  looked  upon  Peter; — and  Peter 
went  out,  and  wept  bitterly." — Luke  xxii.  61,  62. 

Weep  not  for  those  in  Christ  who  sleep. 

Within  the  cold  grave's  dreamless  bed. 
Their  rest  is  calm,  and  angels  keep 

Watch  o'er  each  heaven-beloved  head. 
Their  strife  is  closed,  their  crown  is  won: 

To  realms  of  bliss  their  spirits  soar, 
And  near  their  heavenly  Father's  throne, 

Live  in  his  smile,  to  die  no  more. 

But  weep  for  those,  who  here  below, 

Through  trial's  stormy  ocean  steer, 
Who  'mid  the  mountain  billows  go, 

By  hope  misled,  or  driven  by  fear. 
And  oh,  for  him,  in  danger's  hour, 

Whose  heart  hath  sunk,  whose  faith  is  dim. 
Who  falls  before  the  tempter's  power, — 

Weep,  child  of  frailty,  weep  for  him. 


peter's  denial  of  Christ,  51 

Vet,  in  the  hour  of  guilt  and  shame. 

Jesus,  thy  glance  could  bring  relict*. 
The  wandering  spirit  could  reclaim. 

And  ope  the  source  of  hallowed  grief. 
Thus,  when  we  leave  thy  heavenly  way. 

Lord,  may  the  love,  the  thought,  ©f  the*- 
Subdue  each  sinful  passion's  sway, 

And  in  thy  spirit  make  us  free. 


52  TEMPTATION. 


TEMPTATION. 

When  a  thousand  voices  raise 
To  thy  name  the  shout  of  praise, 
And  before  thy  dazzled  sight 
Glory  beams  enthroned  in  light. 
While  on  thee  she  calls  aloud, 
Pointing  to  the  admiring  crowd, 
Pause,  nor  kneel  before  her  throne. 
Give  thy  heart  to  God  alone! 

Sweeter  strains  of  soft  desire 
Float  round  Pleasure's  golden  lyre. 
Bright  as  beams  of  opening  day 
Hope  and  transport  round  her  play. 
Smiles  and  Gaiety  are  there, 
Banished  far  are  Thought  and  Care. 
Heed  not  thou  the  entrancing  tone: 
Give  thy  heart  to  God  alone! 

Mammon  bids  thee  view  the  store 
Heaped  for  him  f^m  every  shore. 


TEMPTATION.  53 

Worship  him,  and  wealth  untold, 
Through  thy  swelling  coffers  rolled, 
Shall  reward  thy  bended  knee. 
Spurn  the  base  idolatry! 
Heavenly  treasures  are  thine  own: 
Give  thy  heart  to  God  alone! 

Onward,  in  thy  Saviour's  path, 
Brave  the  baffled  Tempter's  wrath. 
Soon  deceitful  Pleasure's  lay 
From  thine  ear  shall  sink  away; 
Soon  Ambition's  thrilling  voice 
Cease  to  urge  thy  trembling  choice. 
Life's  short  day  of  duty  done, 
God  shall  claim  thee  for  his  own. 


54  THE  SABBATH    DAT, 


THE  SABBATH  DAY. 


Hail  to  the  Sabbath  day! 
The  day  divinely  given, 
When  men  to  God  their  homage  pay, 
And  earth  draws  near  to  heaven. 

Lord,  in  this  sacred  hour. 
Within  thy  courts  we  bend, 
And  bless  thy  love,  and  own  thy  power, 
Our  Father  and  our  Friend! 

But  thou  art  not  alone 
In  courts  by  mortals  trod, 
Nor  is  this  day  the  only  one 
For  men  to  worship  God. 

Thy  Temple  is  the  arch 
Of  yon  unmeasured  sky; 
Thy  Sabbath,  the  stupendous  march 
Of  Heaven's  eternitx . 


THE  SABBATH  DAY.  55 

Lord!  may  that  holier  day 
Dawn  on  thy  servants'  sight. 
And  grant  us  in  those  courts  to  pray 
Of  pure  unclouded  light. 


JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE. 


JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE. 

SONNET  I. 

In  Pilate's  hall,  by  scornful  Pharisees 

Surrounded,  and  by  dark-browed  Roman  bands, 
Before  the  Procurator's  footstool  stands 

The  Son  of  God,  the  glorious  Prince  of  Peace. 

Alone  he  stands,  his  followers  all  have  fled; 
In  mockery  o'er  his  limbs  a  robe  is  thrown 
Of  regal  purple;  and  a  thorny  crown 

Appears  in  scorn  upon  his  sacred  head. 

But  calm  he  spake:  From  God  my  power  proceeds. 
Without  his  will  thou  canst  not  harm  a  hair 
Upon  my  brow;  then  patient  will  I  bear 

The  unrighteous  punishment  of  holy  deeds. 

I  am  a  king,  but  not  with  mortal  state. 

He  said,  and  humbly  died,  the  greatest  of  the 
great. 


JESUS  BEFORE  PILATE.  57 


SONNET  II. 

And  oh,  what  beams  of  dignity  and  love 
Flowed  o'er  his  sacred  features,  as  he  stood 

Calmly  amid  the  foes  who  sought  his  blood, 

His  eyes  upturning  to  his  home  above! 

The  haughty  Judge  with  admiration  gazed, 

And  spoke  him  guiltless;  but  the  frantic  crowd 
Demand  their  victim's  death  with  clamours  loud 

As  the  fierce  Scribes  their  stormy  passions  raised. 

Follower  of  Jesus!  learn  of  him  to  bear 
Unmoved  the  fury  of  victorious  foes; 
Though  shame  environ  thee,  and  anguish  close 

Thy  dying  eyes,  yet  shrink  not;  thou  dost  share 

Thy  Master's  sufferings;  thou  shalt  share  his  rest; 

Oh  learn  of  him  to  live,  to  die,  and  to  be  blest. 


58      HYMN  I  OK  A  NORTHERN  WINTER. 


HYMN  FQR  A  NORTHERN  WINTER. 


God  of  the  Seasons!  'Tis  thy  hand 

Bids  Winter  o'er  the  Earth  come  forth. 

Spreads  o'er  the  plains  his  harsh  command. 
And  wakes  the  fury  of  the  north. 

How  glorious  art  thou,  God  of  might! 

When  rushing  tempests  speak  thy  praise: 
When  through  the  clouds,  the  electric  light 

Quick  darts  its  momentary  blaze. 

How  glorious  art  thou,  gracious  Lord! 

When,  mid  the  calm  and  solemn  night. 
<  )Vr  the  wide  North  beam  far  abroad 

Wide  limes  and  towers  of  pillar'd  light. 

O'er  town  and  forest,  hill  and  vale, 
The  pure  and  silvery  rays  are  sh<  <i. 

\nd  stars  before  that  light  grow  pale. 
\s  high  and  far  its  beams  are  spread. 


HYMN  FOR  A  NORTHERN  WINTER.  50 

The  moon,  with  dimmed  yet  lovely  ray, 

Holds  on  meanwhile,  through  cloudy  flakes. 

Her  tranquil,  heaven  directed  way, 
Till  in  new  glories,  morn  awakes. 

The  Sun  comes  forth;  o'er  vale  and  hill 

Creation  at  his  presence  glows; 
In  silver  gleams  each  frozen  rill, 

And  Earth  is  fresh  with  fleecy  snows. 

With  purer  gems  than  glittering  strew 
The  caves  of  India's  wealthy  mines, 

Rich  with  each  clear  and  brilliant  hue, 
The  shrub,  the  frozen  leaflet  shines. 

And  beautiful  the  ice-clad  trees 

Glance  to  the  Sun's  first  gladdening  ray, 
Their  branches  sparkling,  as  the  breeze 

Floats  o'er  them  on  its  trackless  way. 

O  God  of  beauty!  Nature's  Lord! 

In  all  we  own  thy  love,  thy  power; 
Oh  bless  us,  as  our  thanks  are  poured 

Nowr,  in  thy  brilliant  Winter  hours! 


60  HORNING. 


MORNING. 

Now  comes  forth  the  glorious  day 
Like  a  bridegroom  richly  dight, 
re  his  flashing  ray 
the  sullen  vanquished  night. 
,  rills,  with  every  voice 
Id     le  u  i  verse,  rejoice! 

3  of  grateful  homage  pay 
To  the  God  who  made  the  day. 
Mortal!  wake;  the  task  be  thine. 
Nature's  song  of  praise  to  join. 

Now  the  insect  tribe  awake, 
Moving  on  the  busy  wing, 
From  the  stream,  the  wood,  the  brake. 

Forth  they  Wheel  in  many  a  ring; 
And  the  earlv  birds  their  song 
Pour,  each  wood  and  vale  along. 
Creatures  all  of  God's  right  hand, 
Tribes  of  air,  and  sea  and  land, 
To  their  sport  and  labour  rise 
When  the  morning  tints  the  skies. 


MORNING.  61 

They  to  common  tasks  go  forth; — 
Man,  to  thee,  the  loved  of  heaven, 

Is  a  work  of  noble  worth, 

Boundless  toil,  and  glory  given. 

Rise,  to  meet  Temptation's  power; 

Stand,  in  Passion's  wildest  hour; 

Fast  as  danger  round  thee  grows, 

Gather  strength  from  conquered  foes; 

Tread  the  path  thy  Leader  trod, 

Pressing  on  to  Peace,  to  God. 

Wake  thee,  mortal!  Ere  the  Sun 
Sink  beneath  the  golden  West, 

Must  a  toilsome  course  be  run; 
Think  not,  child  of  earth,  to  rest. 

Rough  the  path,  and  steep,  and  hard; 

Bright,  though  distant,  thy  reward; 

Fear  not,  pause  not,  yield  not  now, 

Soon  that  wreath  shall  twine  thy  brow. 

Child  of  Heaven!  there  fix  thine  eyes; 

Onward,  onward  to  the  prize! 


MISCELLANEOUS  PIECES. 


THE  DYING  YEAR.  65 


THE  DYING  YEAR. 


The  sunny  Summer  days  have  fled, 

And  passed  is  Autumn's  changeful  cheer, 

And  Winter's  blasts  around  us  shed 
The  tokens  of  the  Dying  Year. 

"The  Dying  Year!"  Oh  many  a  spell 
In  those  brief  words  hath  memory  laid; 

Of  joy  those  simple  accents  tell, — 
But  joy  o'ercast  by  sorrow's  shade. 

For  oh,  how  many  a  hope  that  smiled 
Bright  in  the  year's  first  opening  ray, 

Has  left  the  heart  it  then  beguiled 
To  darkness  and  to  grief  a  prey. 

As  the  swift  months  their  course  have  trod. 
How  many  a  youth,  in  life's  gay  bloom. 

Has  heard  the  mandate  of  his  God, 
The  summons  to  an  early  tomb. 


66  DYING   YEAR. 

The  infant,  when  the  year  was  nev\ , 
In  bright  and  sinless  beauty  shone. 

Like  some  frail  drop  of  glittering  dew, 
That  infant  smiled; — like  that,  'tis  gone. 

And  manhood's  stately  head  hath  bowtid, 
And  female  grace  in  slumber  lies; 

Yet  through  bereavement's  darkest  cloud 
Faith  sees  the  light  of  heaven  arise. 

Thus  passes  life;  but  not  alone 

Does  sorrow  claim  the  parting  year; 

Full  many  a  joy  its  hours  have  known, 
The  earnest  of  a  brighter  sphere. 

Such  joy  has  thrilled  the  lover's  breast, 
At  the  dear  word,  half  said,  half  sighed, 

When  to  a  faithful  heart  he  pressed 
His  own  betrothed,  his  blushing  bride. 

And  such  the  father's  hour  of  bliss 
When  first  he  owned  a  father's  name, 

With  fond  affection's  hallowed  kiss 
Answering  his  infant's  tender  claim. 

Sue] i  hours  have  been;  nor  these  alone, 
Thou  passing  \<:ar,  thy  course  have  filled; 


THE  DYING  YEAR.  07 

For  themes  of  rapture  all  thine  own 

The  patriot's  grateful  breast  have  thrilled. 

Who  can  forget,  how  darkly  rose, 
In  doubt  and  fear,  thy  earlier  day? 

Who  fail  to  bless  the  power  that  throws 
On  thy  decline  a  peaceful  ray? 

High  swelled  dissension's  maddening  cry; 

And  listening  with  prophetic  fear, 
In  every  breeze  that  wandered  by 

We  seemed  the  clash  of  steel  to  hear. 

We  saw,  in  fancy's  visions  wild, 

Our  land's  best  blood  in  slaughter  poured; 

The  mother  clasp  her  orphan  child, 
And  curse  a  brother's  guilty  sword. 

Then  rung  each  rival  battle  cry, 

The  dirge  of  peace,  and  law,  and  right: 

And  rival  standards  lit  the  sky, 
The  beacons  of  the  stormy  fight. 

The  vision  passed.  The  hill,  the  vale. 

In  peace  and  freedom  joyful  lie; 
And  gently  floats  upon  the  gale 

The  ham  of  tranquil  industry. 


G8  THE  DYING  YEAR. 

And  still,  bright  flag!  our  fathers'  pride! 

Thy  old  heroic  place  is  thine. 
On  castled  height,  and  foaming  tide, 

Still  dost  thou  freely,  proudly  shine. 

My  Country!  lives  the  son  of  shame 
Who  would  not  give  his  life  for  thee? 

My  Country!  dearest,  holiest  name! 
Still  art  thou  great,  united,  free. 

My  Country!  By  thy  children's  love, 

Whose  blood  for  thee  flowed  forth  like  wine, 

By  Him,  thy  guardian  power  above. 
Still  be  that  glorious  Union  thine! 

And  ye,  who  with  the  opening  year, 

Careless  peruse  this  humble  lay; 
If  to  your  hearts  that  land  be  dear, 

Where  first  ye  hailed  the  joyous  day; — 

For  that  fair  heritage  ye  claim 

Seek  the  best  gift  that  Heaven  bestows, 
More  glorious  than  the  Conqueror's  name, 

The  honour  that  from  virtue  flows. 

May  health  and  joy  around  you  smile, 
Ks  glides  away  the  dawning  year; 


THE  DYING  YEAR.  69 

And  not  a  thought  of  grief  beguile 
Your  eyes  of  one  bright,  transient  tear. 

The  minstrel's  wish  is  breathed;  the  lyre 
He  rudely  woke  may  sleep  once  more. 

Quenched  is  his  momentary  fire, 

The  chords  are  hushed,  the  song  is  o'er. 

December  31**,  1833. 


70  NEW-ENGLAND. 


NEW -ENGLAND. 


Oh  who  upon  his  lips  could  lay 

The  seal  of  caution  strong, 
And  calmly  give  the  slander  way 

That  does  his  country  wrong? 
Who  can  restrain  the  burning  word, 

The  fearless  glance  of  youth, 
When  each  indignant  thought  is  stirred 

To  witness  to  the  truth? 

New- England!  glorious  native  laud! 

When  false  to  thee  I  prove, 
Then  palsied  be  my  faithless  hand, 

M\  lips  forget  to  move! 
When  thou  art  challenged,  shall  my  voice 

hi  thy  good  cause  forbear? 
No!  be  a  nobler  part  my  choice, 

1 1  ere, — ever, — everywhere. 


NEW-ENGLAND .  7  I 

Home  of  the  good,  the  brave,  the  wise. 

Bold  youth  and  beauty  bright, 
The  Sun,  as  on  his  course  he  hies 

Beholds  no  lovelier  sight. 
Italia's  vales  with  perfume  glow 

From  every  flowery  tree, 
But  ne'er  those  lovely  valleys  know 

The  breath  of  Liberty. 

Bright  beams  the  sun  on  Syria's  plains. 

Where  ancient  prophets  trod, 
And  held,  in  Nature's  forest  fanes, 

High  converse  with  their  God. 
But  holier  are  the  hills  that  bind 

Thy  stormy  ocean  shore, 
For  there  the  sacred  human  mind 

Knows  its  own  strength  once  more. 

There,  in  the  cottage  and  the  hall, 

As  bursts  the  morning  ray, 
The  hymn  of  praise  ascends  from  all 

To  him  who  gives  the  day. 
There,  as  the  evening  sun  declines 

They  join  in  harmless  glee; 
On  all  the  beam  of  pleasure  shines, 
*     For  all  alike  are  free. 


72  .\EW-ENGLAND. 

Yet  if  I  love  thee,  native  land! 

Is  the  bright  South  less  dear? 
Can  I  not  prize  the  lofty  band 

Of  generous  spirits  here? 
Souls  warm  with  honour's  sacred  fire! 

Hearts  true  in  friendship  known! 
Fearless  I  strike  the  patriot  lyre — 

Its  spirit  is  your  own. 

Augusta,  (Geo.)  October,  1833. 


At  the  request  of  a  friend,  the  preceding  lines  were  in- 
serted, with  the  signature  of  "Harold,"  in  one  of  the 
Augusta  papers.  The  next  number  of  the  same  Gazette 
contained  the  following  noble  verses  in  reply.  Their  poet- 
ical merit,  and  the  generous  feeling  they  displayed,  required 
an  acknowledgment  on  my  part;  and  the  lines  on  the  "A- 
merican  Flag,"  were  in  consequence  written  and  published. 


TO  HAROLD.  73 


"TO  HAROLD." 


"Child  of  those  hills,  whose  lofty  heights 

Their  answering  thunders  woke; 

When  struggling  for  her  injured  rights 

Our  infant  nation  spoke: — 

Those  barriers  to  the  stormy  sea, 
Where  men,  resolving  to  be  free, 

First  spurned  the  tyrant's  yoke: — 
Can  Southern  hearts  forget  that  spot/ 
Child  of  those  hills!  believe  it  not. 

"Shame  to  the  man  who  would  forget 

New-England's  noble  stand; 

When  Britain's  bannered  columns  met 

To  desolate  our  land. 

No!  by  the  blood  she  freely  poured — 
By  Warren's  spirit, — Putnam's  sword — 

We  love  New-England  yet! 
Those  hills!  that  height!  tomb  of  the  brave- 
Oar  martyred  Freemen's  earliest  grave. 


74  TO  HAROLD. 

"The  selfish,  for  a  time,  may  rule; 

Fierce  passions  bear  the  sway; 

The  traitor  knave,  the  busy  fool. 

Alike,  may  have  their  day: — 
Our  Union  Banner,  still,  untorn, 
Shall  proudly  on  the  winds  be  borne. 

Reflecting  every  ray: — 
No!  not  a  star  our  fathers  set 
Shall  fall  from  that  bright  coronet. 

"Child  of  those  hills!  thy  harp-strung  lyre? 
Swells  with  a  lofty  strain; — 
O!  let  its  tones  of  patriot  fire 
Breathe  on  our  souls  again: — 

Its  spirit  bears  a  tale  of  truth 

To  every  burning  hearted  youth 
From  mountain  to  the  main; — 

Thy  native  hills,  though  cold  they  be, 

\re  peopled  by  the  brave  and  free." 

"MARION." 


THE  AMERICAN  FLAG.  f3 


THE  AMERICAN  FLAG. 

ADDRESSED  TO  "MARION." 

Yes!  I  obey  that  call!  The  heart  leaps  up, 
And  the  quick  pulse  beats  faster,  at  the  gush 
Of  that  heroic  strain.  O  not  with  thine 
My  feeble  voice  in  rivalry  of  song 
May  meet;  but  to  that  call  tfae  heart  replies, 
Nor  can  the  tongue  be  silent.  Yet  once  more, 
Awake,  O  lyre,  the  unaccustomed  lay! 


Late,  o'er  the  night's  blue  canopy, 
Saw  ye  the  meteors  flash  on  high 

In  glory  like  the  day, 
With  stars  on  stars  successive  gleaming, 
And  tracks  of  fire  incessant  streaming 

On  their  ethereal  way? 


76  THE  AMERICAN  FLAG. 

Thusin  an  hour  of  woe  and  dread, 
Upon  the  winds  thy  glory  spread, 

Thou  standard  of  the  brave! 
Dark  closed  the  shades  around  our  path; 
The  tempest  of  Britannia's  wrath 

Was  brooding  on  the  Mrave. 

Then  burst  to  light  thy  meteor  form, 
To  ride  upon  that  darkening  storm, 

Then  flashed  thy  stars  on  high; 
And  as  that  beacon  blazed  afar, 
Thy  heroes  gathered  to  the  war. 

To  conquer  or  to  die! 

Then  from  their  snow-clad  hills  came  forth 
The  children  of  the  hardy  North, 

Then  rose  Virginia's  might; 
Oh  then,  how  danced,  in  Southern  veins. 
The  blood,  as  rang  the  trumpet-strains. 

The  music  of  the  fight. 

They  met  from  every  distant  shore; 

As  brethren  through  the  strife  they  bore 

Their  Union's  hallowed  sign. 
Our  Country!  Thine  their  battle  cry. 
Thine  was  their  shout  of  victory, 

Their  dying  prayer  was  thine! 


THE  AMERICAN  FLAG.  77 

Look  through  the  land  for  which  they  bled! 
Where  rest  enshrined  those  patriot  dead, 

In  death  with  honour  crowned? 
Where'er  from  Freedom's  bloody  sod 
The  freeman's  spirit  soared  to  God, 

'Tis  consecrated  ground. 

Beneath  Savannah's  myrtle  shade, 
The  warriors  of  the  North  are  laid, 

Reposing  from  their  toil; 
And  calm  the  Southern  hero's  rest, 
His  grassy  couch  how  bright,  how  blest, 

In  far  New -England's  soil! 

Sons  of  those  heroes!  Raise  on  high 
Their  starry  flag  exultingly 

O'er  mount,  and  plain,  and  sea; 
And  where,  in  strife  that  banner  waved, 
Swear  ye  to  keep  the  land  they  saved 

United,  peaceful,  free' 


78  THE  IDEALS. 


THE  IDEALS. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  SCHILLER* 

And  wilt  thou  thus  depart  forever 

With  all  thy  dear  fantastic  train, 
Each  pain,  each  faithless  joy,  that  never, 

Ah  never  can  be  mine  again? 
Can  aought  detain  thy  rapid  fleeting, 

Thou  golden  prime  of  youth  and  glee? 
In  vain,  in  vain;  the  waves  retreating 

Haste  onward  to  the  eternal  sea. 

Such  are  the  glorious  orbs  that  lighted 

The  path  my  youth  transported  chose; 
The  fair  Ideals  all  how  blighted 

That  glowing  on  my  senses  rose. 
The  sweet  belief  has  fled  forever 

On  beings  that  in  dreams  are  born; 
For  harsh  reality  can  never 

Look  on  the  lovely,  but  with  scorn. 


THE  IDEALS.  79 

As  once,  with  prayers  in  passion  flowing. 

Pygmalion  embraced  the  stone, 
Till  from  the  frozen  marble  glowing 

The  light  of  feeling  o'er  him  shone. 
So  did  I  clasp  with  young  devotion 

Bright  Nature  to  a  poet's  heart, 
Till  breath,  and  warmth,  and  vital  motion 

Seemed  through  the  statue  form  to  dart. 

And  then,  in  all  my  ardour  sharing, 

The  silent  form  a  voice  had  found, 
Returned  my  kiss  of  youthful  daring, 

And  understood  my  heart's  quick  sound. 
Then  lived  for  me  the  bright  creation; 

The  silver  rill  with  song  was  rife; 
The  trees,  the  roses  shared  sensation, 

An  echo  of  my  boundless  life. 

This  breast,  as  though  its  narrow  measure 

Could  all  enfold,  and  all  survey, 
Struggled  to  grasp  the  boundless  treasure 

That  there  in  bright  perspective  lay. 
This  world,  while  in  the  bud  yet  folded, 

How  vast,  how  wondrous,  did  it  seem; 
Now,  a  few  leaves,  so  feebly  moulded, 

Alone  remind  me  of  the  dream. 


80  THE  IDEALS. 

How  sprung,  on  wings  of  fiery  daring. 

And  in  his  dreaming  fancy  gay, 
With  no  dull  care  his  strength  impairing. 

The  youth  on  his  adventurous  way. 
To  the  pale  stars  in  ether  gleaming 

The  strength  of  bold  resolve  could  soar: 
And  though  beyond  creation  seeming, 

Her  wing  could  reach  the  distant  shore. 

The  youth  was  wafted  then,  how  lightly! 

What  was  too  hard,  too  far,  too  high? 
How  danced  before  life's  chariot  brightly 

The  spiritual  company! 
Fortune,  a  golden  wreath  entwining, 

Love,  glowing  in  eternal  youth, 
Honour,  her  crown  of  bright  stars  shining. 

And,  in  his  sun-like  splendour,  Truth. 

But  ah!  ere  half  the  path  is  ended, 

The  bright  companions  all  have  flown; 
Faithless  away  their  course  they  bended, 

And  one  by  one,  all,  all  have  gone. 
Lightly  the  step  of  Fortune  parted; 

The  thirst  of  knowledge  could  not  cease: 
And  not  Truth's  sunny  beam  has  darted 

Through  doubt's  dark  clouds  a  gleam  of  peace. 


THE  IDEALS.  81 

I  saw  bright  Honour's  circlet  holy 

Upon  a  common  brow  profaned, 
And  quenched  too  soon  in  melancholy, 

The  last  dear  light  that  Love  retained; 
And  stiller  now,  and  more  deserted 

Grew  the  rough  way  the  wanderer  trac'd, 
And  scarce  a  pale  ray  yet  was  darted 

By  Hope  upon  the  dreary  waste. 

Of  all  that  winged  host  around  me, 

Who  loving  tarried  at  my  side? 
Whose  mild  consoling  voice  hath  found  me. 

Mine,  while  the  springs  of  life  abide? 
Thou,  for  each  pain  so  gently  caring, 

Friendship!  thy  soft  hand  closed  the  wound; 
Kindly  life's  heavy  burthen  sharing, 

Thou  whom  I  early  sought  and  found. 

And  thou,  with  her  in  love  united, 

Calming,  like  her,  the  mental  storm ; 
Thou,  Occupation,  still  delighted 

To  watch  thy  work's  slow  rising  form. 
Thou,  to  Eternity's  vast  masses 

Giv'st  but  thy  sand-grains,  one  by  one, 
While  on  the  unceasing  current  passes. 

And  moments,  days,  and  years  are  gone. 


32  THE  AURORA  BOREALIS. 


THE  AURORA  BOREALIS. 


Amid  the  majesty  of  night, 

What  splendid  vision  strikes  my  eyes. 
In  glory  bursting  on  the  sight, 

Forth  from  the  northern  skies? 

Js  it  the  cloud  of  shadowy  mist 
That  folded  Loda's  spirit-form, 

The  warrior  from  his  toil  dismissed, 
Or  daemon  of  the  storm? 

No!  not  to  Superstition's  sprites, 
Wild  offspring  of  the  human  brain. 

Be  these  ascribed,  the  loftiest  rites 
In  Nature's  holiest  fane! 

N©r  let  unmeaning  wonder  eye 
This  glorious  child  of  light  and  air; 

The  majesty  of  Deity 
Is  manifested  there' 


THE  AURORA  BOREALIS.  $3 

O'er  all  the  wide-spread  northern  skies, 
How  glows  and  waves  that  heavenly  light. 

Where  dome,  and  arch,  and  column  rise 
Magnificently  bright! 

Magnificent,  yet  mild,  it  seems; 

Not  dazzling  as  the  orb  of  day, 
More  like  the  soft  moon's  silvery  beams, 

Its  calm,  ethereal  ray. 

And  every  thing  is  calm  around; 

'Tis  Nature's  stillest,  holiest  hour! 
The  cloudless  sky,  with  bright  stars  crowned, 

Tells  of  its  Maker's  power. 

E'en  thus  the  light  of  Christian  truth 
Shines  o'er  our  path,  in  mercy  given, 

To  guide  the  erring  steps  of  youth 
From  earth's  vain  joys,  to  Heaven. 

And  thus,  O  Father!  may  the  light 

Of  virtuous  deeds  and  pious  love 
Beam  on  our  course,  through  trouble's  night. 

And  point  our  path  above! 


94  LINES. 


LINES 

WRITTEN  AT  TOCCOA  FALLS,  GEORGIA, 

Hail,  loveliest,  purest  scene! 
How  brightly  mingling  with  the  clear,  blue  sky. 
Thy  glancing  wave  arrests  the  upward  eye, 

Through  thy  grove's  leafy  screen. 

Through  thy  transparent  veil, 
And  wide  around  thee,  Nature's  grandest  forms, 
Rocks,  built  for  ages  to  abide  the  storms, 

Frown  on  the  subject  dale. 

Fed  by  thy  rapid  stream, 
In  every  crevice  of  that  savage  pile, 
The  living  herbs  in  quiet  beauty  smile, 

Lit  by  the  sunny  gleam. 

And  over  all,  that  gush 
Of  rain-drops,  sparkling  to  the  noonday  sun! 


LINES.  85 

While  ages  round  thee  on  their  course  have  run, 
Ceaseless  thy  waters  rush. 

I  would  not  that  the  bow 
With  gorgeous  hues  should  light  thy  virgin  stream; 
Better  thy  white  and  sun-lit  foam  should  gleam 

Thus,  like  unsullied  snow. 

Yes!  thou  hast  seen  the  woods 
Around,  for  centuries  rise,  decay,  and  die, 
While  thou  hast  poured  thy  endless  current  hy, 

To  join  the  eternal  floods. 

The  ages  pass  away, 
Successive  nations  rise,  and  are  forgot, 
But  on  thy  brilliant  course  thou  pausest  not, 

'Mid  thine  unchanging  spray. 

When  I  have  sunk  to  rest — 
Thus  wilt  thou  pass  in  calm  sublimity. 
Then  be  thy  power  to  others,  as  to  me, 

On  the  deep  soul  impressed. 

Here  does  a  spirit  dwell 
Of  gratitude,  and  contemplation  high, 
Holding  deep  union  with  eternity.-^ 

O  loveliest  scene,  farewell! 

8* 


SO  AN  OLD  MAN'S  ADVICE* 


AN  OLD  MAN'S  ADVICE. 


Come,  Henry,  and  list  what  an  old  man  says? 

Whose  voice  must  now  soon  be  still; 
And  perhaps  the  remembrance  in  after  days, 
Among  life's  many  and  toilsome  ways, 

May  aid  to  preserve  you  from  ill. 

My  boy,  to  the  impulse  always  yield 

Of  the  Holy  Voice  within; 
But  when  a   thought  springs  in  the  heart  con- 
cealed, 
Which  you  would  not  be  willing  to  have  revealed, 

Be  sure  'tis  a  thought  of  sin. 

When  you  stand  in  doubt,  if  a  deed  be  right 

Or  wrong,  which  you  wish  to  do, 
Remember  'tis  better,  in  God's  pure  sight, 
To  relinquish  at  once  the  desired  delight, 

Than  a  doubtful  course  pursue. 


AN  OLD  MAN  S  ADVICE.  Wi 

Never  think,  my  dear  boy,  that  your  life  was  given 

To  be  spent  for  yourself  alone; 
From  the  circle  of  human  affections  riven, 
You'd  be  wretched,  though  earth  were  as  bright 
as  heaven, 

And  you  on  a  monarch's  throne. 

To  your  kindred,  your  neighbours,  let  kindness 
flow 

In  a  bright  perennial  stream; 
Be  true  to  your  friend; — be  just,  e'en  to  your  foe; 
And  on  him,  should  his  bosom  its  malice  forego, 

Let  the  rays  of  forgiveness  beam. 

To  your  country  a  wise  and  affectionate  son, 

Her  interests  ever  revere: 
Unseen  let  the  streams  of  your  charity  run, 
Save  by  Him  in  whose  sight  every  action  is  done, 

And  adore  him  with  love  and  with  fear. 

Thus  shall  He  crown  your  days  with  his  blessings 
below, 
With  friendship,  and  honour,  and  peace; 
Or  if  storms  o'er  your  head  in  wild  fury  should 

blow, 
And  your  fond  hopes  be  laid  by  adversity  low, 
Fear  not,  but  await  your  release. 


88  ax  old  man's  advice. 

On  the  night  of  affliction  the  morning  shall  rise, 

Every  cloud  at  its  radiance  shall  fly; 
Every  tear  then  shall  vanish  that  here  dimmed 

your  eyes, 
And  your  Father  will  welcome  his  child  to  the 
skies, 
To  his  mansions  of  glory  ©n  high. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD.  89 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD. 


'Twas  in  the  visions  of  the  night, 
Methought  I  saw  his  infant  form; 

Hues  from  celestial  founts  of  light, 

Upon  his  cheek  glowed  pure  and  warm. 

A  being  of  God's  holiest  mould, 

Uncrushed  by  grief,  undimmed  by  shame; 
A  gleam  of  heaven  around  him  rolled, 

As  from  his  lips  these  accents  came. 

"In  God's  bright  mansion  of  the  sky, 
My  home  from  care  and  grief  is  free; 

There  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye, 
Dear  father,  mourn  not  then  for  me. 

"No  more,  sweet  sister,  may  we  play 
Together,  round  our  father's  knee; 

But  we  shall  meet  in  endless  day, 
Then,  sister,  weep  no  more  for  me. 


90  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD. 

"And  thou,  kind  friend!  thy  care  is  o'er. 

To  guide  my  feeble  infancy; 
But  I  to  bliss  have  gone  before, 

Dear  friend,  then  weep  no  more  for  me. 

"No  lingering  pain  delayed  my  flight, 
On  my  young  soul  no  stain  could  be; 

Oh!  earth  is  dark,  but  heaven  is  bright! 
Kind  friends,  lament  not  then  for  me." 

He  ceased,  and  infant  voices  came, 
While  angel  harps  their  music  poured, 

Hymning  the  Eternal  Father's  name, 
Bv  children  round  his  throne  adored. 


THE  IMMENSITY  OF  CREATION.  91 


THE  IMMENSITY  OF  CREATION. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  SCHILLER. 

Through  Heaven's  vast  ocean,  with  the  speed  of 

wind, 
I  trace  the  works  of  the  creating  Mind. 
At  length  to  land 
On  its  furthest  strand, 
Cast  anchor   there    where   no   breeze   trembles 

more, 
O'er  the  last  waves  that  beat  the  all-surrounding 
shore. 

I  saw  young  stars  in  heavenly  brightness  sent, 
Thousands  of  years  to  roam  the  firmament; 

Saw  them  onward  play 

In  their  destined  way, 
And  round  through   space  a  searching  glance  I 

cast; — 
A  starless  void  before: — those  worlds  were  passed. 


92  THE  IMMENSITY  OF  CREATION. 

Swifter,  yet  swifter,  with  the  speed  of  light, 
I  seek  the  realms  of  Nothingness  and  Night; — 

But  o'er  the  Heaven, 

Like  dim  clouds  driven, 
Worlds,   systems,   meet  the  bold  sun -searcher's 

gaze;— 
Onward  I  rush,  amid  the  countless  blaze. 

See!  on  the  path  a  lonely  traveller! 
We  meet:  I  call:  Pause,  Wanderer,  wherefore 
here? 

"Onward  my  race 

To  the  limit  of  space; — 
Thither  I  sail,  where  no  breeze  trembles  more 
Oe'r  the  last  waves  that  beat  Creation's  shore." 

Stay!  vain  thy  course!  Thou  track'st  Immensity. 
"Stay!  vain  too  thine!  My  path  was  through  Im- 
mensity!" 

Sink,  Eagle  Thought,  thy  wing! 
And  thou,  proud  travelling, 
Intrepid  Fancy!  wander  not  in  vain! 
Here  reef  thy   useless   sail,  amid  the  shoreless 
main. 


LINES.  98 


LINES, 

ON  READING  MRS.   HEMANs's  VERSES  TO  THE  MEM- 
ORY OF  SIR  EDWARD  PACKENHAM. 

Such  then  was  he,  whose  dying  hour 

My  rescued  Country  hailed, 
When  victory  crowned  Columbia's  power. 

And  England's  lion  quailed. 
Oh,  patriot  breasts  with  rapture  thrilled, 

And  thanks  to  Heaven  were  poured, 
When  that  high  heart  in  death  was  stilled. 

And  broke  that  noble  sword. 

He  came,  with  valour's  marshalled  train. 

The  proud  and  strong  array, 
And  gaily  o'er  the  invaded  plain 

They  took  their  fated  way. 
Defiance  to  our  land  they  bore, 

To  liberty  and  laws; 
Vet  sure  the  daring  mien  they  wore, 

Might  grace  a  nobler  cause. 
9 


94  LINES- 

Then  shrunk  not  Freedom's  chosen  son. 

Firm  in  the  hour  of  need. 
Well  was  the  Chieftain's  duty  done; 

Bright  is  his  glory's  meed. 
And  from  the  plain  where  agony 

Groaned  forth  its  parting  life, 
Rose  up  Columbia's  grateful  cry 

For  conquest  in  the  strife. 

And  thou — in  England's  stately  bowers, 

Tears  for  thy  loss  were  shed, 
And  fond  hearts  dwelt,  in  lingering  hours, 

With  thee,  the  loved,  the  dead. 
We  may  not  mourn  thee!  That  proud  fight 

Our  Country's  freedom  sealed; 
We  must  not  dim  the  memory  bright 

Of  Orleans'  glorious  field. 

Set,  gallant  foe!  to  thee  be  paid 

The  honours  duly  thine, 
Vnd  on  thy  early  grave  be  laid 

Corinna's  votive  line! 
The  same  bold  language  thine  and  ours. 

Tlie  same  heroic  strain: 
Oh  never  may  the  kindred  powers 

In  battle  meet  again! 


THE  YUCCA  DBACON1&  95 


THE  YUCCA  DRACONIS, 

OR  SPANISH  BAYONET. 

Where  the  warm  south  a  milder  gracf 
Sheds  o'er  old  Winter's  rugged  mien, 

A  hardy  plant  maintains  its  place, 
In  foliage  of  perennial  green. 

But  not  like  Summer's  fading  flower, 
Those  leaves,  with  thin  and  flexile  form, 

Wave  brightly  for  a  sunny  hour, 
To  die  before  the  gathering  storm - 

No!  Those  firm  leaves  the  trunk  conceal. 

And  forth  their  bristling  circle  grows, 
Formed  like  those  points  of  glittering  steel. 

The  terror  of  Columbia's  foes. 

Rash  were  the  hand  should  dare  invade, 
Unarmed,  that  guarded  Southern  tree, 

As,  near  the  pine-tree's  scanty  shade, 
It  rears  its  head,  proud,  graceful,  free. 
t 


96  THE  YUCCA  DRACOXIS. 

But  when,  by  May  to  Georgia  led, 
The  soft  Southwest  comes  gently  on. 

And  every  field-flower  rears  its  head, 
And  every  threatening  blast  is  gone; 

Oh!  lovely  round  Augusta's  bowers 
That  guarded  Southern  tree  is  seen, 

The  snowy  whiteness  of  its  flowers 
Contrasting  with  those  points  of  green. 

But  Nature's  page,  with  rays  illumed 
Of  truth,  which  Poets  only  know, 

Tells  us,  not  always  thus  have  bloomed 

Those  armed  leaves,  those  flowers  of  snow* 

A  fairy  once,  who  loved  to  rest 

Within  the  Lily's  spotless  bell, 
Asked,  bending  o'er  her  favorite's  breast, 

The  flower  her  secret  grief  to  tell. 

"Loveliest  of  all  the  bright  parterre, 

Why  hangs  my  flower  her  trembling  head? 

Oil,  could  thy  Fairy's  fondest  care 
Another  grace  around  thee  shed?" 

"Fairy,"  the  Lily  sad  replied, 

"My  few  brief  days  are  passed  in  fear: 


THE  YUCCA  DRACONIS. 

Each  hand  can  pluck  my  pearly  pride; 
No  point,  no  guardian  thorn  is  near." 

The  Fairy  waves  her  wand  of  gold; 

The  Lily  owns  the  powerful  spell; 
Strong  leaves,  in  many  a  circle  rolled, 

The  rash  intruding  touch  repel. 

Above,  the  enchanted  eye  perceives 
A  hundred  spotless  lilies  wave; 

Below,  the  green  and  pointed  leaves 
Rise  like  the  weapons  of  the  brave. 

Since  then,  the  Yucca  holds  her  place, 
Emblem  of  Georgia's  generous  youth, 

Of  female  purity  and  grace, 

Guarded  by  manly  strength  and  truth. 


*9 


98  the  soldier's  song  of  home* 


THE  SOLDIER'S  SONG  OF  HOME; 

A  FRAGMENT  OF  A  LONG  POEM. 

Amid  the  myrtle  bowers  I  stray. 

The  glorious  stars  above; 
I  send  my  thoughts  o'er  cliff  and  bay 

Home  to  the  land  I  love. 
There  calmly  glance  those  orbs  of  light: 

On  my  own  woodland  stream, 
And  pensive,  'mid  the  gathering  night. 

My  Esther  courts  their  beam. 

E'en  now,  perchance,  beyond  the  main 

Her  prayers  ascend  for  me! 
From  those  pure  lips  the  sacred  strain 

Is  wafted  o'er  the  sea. 
I  hear  the  well  remembered  voice 

Whose  every  tone  is  love; 
Again  with  thee,  my  bride,  rejoice 

Beneath  our  star-lit  grove. 


THE  SOLDIER'S  SOXG  OF  DOME.  06 

My  cherub  boy!  I  see  thee  now 

Within  that  fond  embrace; 
In  laughing  beauty  gazest  thou 

Upon  thy  mother's  face. 
Bless  thee,  my  child! — the  vision  flics: — 

I  stretch  my  hands  in  vain; 
Far,  far  away  my  country  lies 

Beyond  a  stormy  main. 

Fairest  and  best!  May  Saints  above 

Thy  gentle  steps  attend; 
And  cleaj-eyed  faith  and  holy  love 

In  thy  pure  spirit  blend. 
We  meet  again:  Above  my  bier 

The  war-cry  soon  may  swell. 
But  in  a  brighter,  happier  sphere 

We  meet  again:  farewell! 


100  THE  MOTHER'S  SONG. 


THE  MOTHER'S  SONG; 

FROM  THE  SAME  POEM. 

Sleep,  my  infant,  sweetly  smiling, 

Rest  thee  from  thy  hour  of  play.  . 
Thy  soft  breath,  my  heart  beguiling, 

Soothes  me  on  life's  toilsome  way. 
Safely  sleep,  my  arms  enfold  thee, 

Danger,  care,  thou  canst  not  know, 
While  a  mother's  eyes  behold  thee, 

Safe  thy  bounding  steps  may  go. 

Thou  may'st  miss  my  glance  to-morrow 

On  thy  path,  my  blooming  boy! 
Soon  may  come  a  night  of  sorrow, 

Closing  o'er  thy  day  of  joy. 
But  wilt  thou  be  friendless?  Never! 

While  thy  Father  reigns  above. 
He  will  guard  thy  steps  forever, 

Friend  of  innocence  and  love. 


THE  MOTHER'S  SONG.  101 

Be  his  holy  presence  near  thee! 

Be  his  spirit  in  thy  heart, 
Through  thy  life  to  guide  and  cheer  thee, 

Nor,  when  life  is  o'er,  depart. 
Father!  In  thy  care  confiding, 

Calm  I  bow  to  thy  decree; 
Every  fear  of  ill  betiding 

Flies  before  the  thought  of  Thee! 


102  THE  LAST  RELIANCE. 


THE  LAST  RELIANCE. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  KORNER,  COMPOSED  ON  THE 
RETREAT  OF  THE  ALLIED  ARMIES  OVER  THE 
ELBE. 

Why  bend  ye  your  brows  thus  sad  and  stern? 
Why  wildly  your  gaze  on  the  dark  night  turn, 

Ye  spirits  brave  and  free? 
"Now  howls  the  storm  with  lightnings  flashing, 
Trembles  the  earth, — the  waves  are  dashing, 

Alas!  and  what  are  we? 

"With  new  fire  rage  the  flames  of  hell, — 
In  vain  our  noble  brethren  fell; — 

Still  holds  the  Oppressor  sway!" 
Yet  still  in  the  justice  of  Heaven  confide! 
The  sun  rises  red  on  the  Eastern  tide, 

Red  and  bloody  will  be  the  day! 

And  if  courage  and  strength  were  needed  before, 

Now  be  all  strength  exerted!  The  friendly  shore 

In  sight,  shall  the  good  ship  break? 


THE  LAST  RELIANCE.  103 

Arouse  thyself,  Youth,  for  the  Tiger  is  near! 
Arm,   strength   of  the  Land!  and  in  vengeance 
appear! 

Thou  slumbering  People,  awake! 

And  we,  who  together  prepared  stand  here, 
And  meet  death  face  to  face  with  a  heart  void  of 
fear, 

In  the  good  cause  we  never  will  waver. 
Our  Freedom  to  rescue,  our  Father-land, 
Or  joyful  to  die,  with  the  sword  in  our  hand, 

And  yield  us  to  tyranny,  never! 

Life  without  freedom,  oh  what  is  it  worth? 
No  price  has  the  wide  unbounded  earth, 

Worthy  the  soil  we  tread. 
The  land  of  our  sires  again  shall  be  free, 
Or  free  with  those  sires  in  death  will  we  be, 

Yes!  happy  and  free  are  the  dead! 

Then  howl,  thou  storm,  and  dash  on,  ye  waves; 
Tremble,  thou  earth,  while  the  tempest  raves; 

Our  souls  to  your  wrath  shall  not  yield. 
The  earth  at  our  feet  in  destruction  may  sink, 
Still  free  will  we  stand  on  the  terrible  brink, 

And  our  bond  with  our  blood  shall  be  sealed. 


104  SONNETS. 


SONNETS. 


I. 

PARTING  FROM  LIFE. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  KORNER,  COMPOSED  AS  HE 
LAY  WOUNDED  AND  HELPLESS  IN  A  WOOD.  Ifl 
EXPECTATION  OF  DEATH. 

The  wounds  are  burning,  and  the  pale  lips  quiver; 

I  feel,  I  feel  it  by  my  heart's  dull  beating, 

At  the  last  point  I  stand  of  life  retreating: 
God!  as  thou  wilt,  so  be  it!  I  deliver 
To  thee  my  spirit!  Golden  dreams,  farewell! 

Your  music  is  my  dirge,  its  sweetness  o'er. 

Yet  courage!  That  which  in  my  heart  I  bore 
So  faithful,  must  forever  with  me  dwell. 
And  what  I  here  owned  as  a  holy  thing, 


SONNETS.  105 

For  which  my  youthful  spirit  glowed  so  high, 
Freedom  or  Love,  it  meets  my  closing  eye, 
A  seraph  with  heaven's  light  upon  its  wing. 
And  as  sensation  slowly  fades  away, 
Celestial  breezes  waft  me  to  the  realms  of  day. 


II. 
THE  EARLY  DEAD. 

I  passed  a  sweet,  though  melancholy  hour; 
It  was  a  vision  of  the  early  dead, 
Who,  clothed  in  purity  and  glory,  fled 
From  this  dark  world  to  that  celestial  bower 
Where  dwells,  in  light  intense,  the  A 11 -bounteous 
Power. 
And   there  were  two  bright  forms    amid  the 

throng, 
The  crowned  and  consecrated  sons  of  song. 
The  German  youth  who  perished  in  the  flower 
Of  opening  years,  the  martyr,  bard,  and  chief;* 
He  too,  who  breathed  the  wild,  prophetic  strain 
To  that  sad  herb,  the  inmate  of  the  tomb.t 


*  K>'mer.      t  Henry  Kirke   White. — See  his  lines  to 
the  herb  Rosemary. 

10 


106  SONNETS. 

Their  early  graves  yet  drink  the  tears  of  grief. 
Ye  blessed  spirits!  'Mid  the  angelic  train 
Ye  in  immortal  youth  and  beauty  bloom! 


III. 

CONTINUATION  OF  THE  PRECEDING. 

Shall  I  then  meet  you  there, — the  friends  ne'er 
seen, 

Companions  of  the  soul?  If  so,  to  die 

Is  joy  and  glory.  Though  in  dust  we  lie, 
Yet,  if  our  memory  flourish  ever  green, 
\nd  earth  be  holier  than  had  we  not  been, 

And  we  meet  friends  above,  why  cling  to  life? 

;Tis  when  our  years  with  sin  and  folly  rife, 
And  stings  of  fell  remorse,  unceasing,  keen, 
Have  made    us  loathe   this    world,  the  next  is 

feared. 

O  man!  thy  happiness  e'en  here  resides 
With  blameless  Innocence  and  clear-eyed  Faith. 
By  these  true  pilots  let  thy  bark  be  steered. 
Safe  shall  they   bear  thee  o'er  life's  swelling 

tid<   . 
And  friends    shall  greot  thee   on  the  shore  of 

death. 


30NNETS.  107 

IV. 
POETRY. 

Mark'st  thou  yon  traveller  on  his  weary  way, 
Drawing  along  with  pain  his  lingering  feet? 
How  joys  his  heart,  if  running  waters  greet 

His  ear  refreshed,  and  sparkling  to  the  day 

The  clear,  cool  stream  among  the  pebbles  play! 
There,  on  the  grassy  bank,  beneath  the  shade 
Of  yonder  trees,  his  burthen  he  hath  laid; 

He   bathes   his  head,   he   drinks,   then   onward 
passes  gay. 
So,  when  cold  lethargy  benumbs  my  frame, 

Life  seems  to  fail,  and  cheerfulness  is  o'er; 

Sweet  poesy!  thou  gushest  forth  before 

My  wearied  steps;  I  drink;  the  sacred  flame 

Brightens  again.     Oh  praise  to  Him  be  paid, 

Who  lent  me,  in  my  need,  thy  heavenly  aid! 


DUTY. 

Duty!  celestial  ray!  Like  that  fair  star 

Art  thou,  which  'mid  the  wandering  host  of 
night, 


108  SONNETS. 

Alone  unmoving  sheds  its  friendly  light 
To  the  brave  sailor  oil  his  ocean -car. 
To  that  the  soldier  turns,  by  chance  of  war 

Lonely  survivor  on  the  field  of  death. 
That  faithful  ray  shall  guide  his  steps  afar 

To  join  his  comrades  on  the  distant  heath. 
Thus  be  thy  light  to  me;  for  round  my  way 

Though  laugh  the  landscape  fair,  and  sunny 
skies, 
Yet  what  avails  it,  while  my  footsteps  stray 

Uncertain  where  the  path  of  duty  lies. 
Oh  might  thy  light  burst  forth!  Thou  gladdening 
ray, 

Direct  me,  and  I  follow!  Rise,  oh  rise? 


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